On My Own
by EnglishPoet18
Summary: Daryl/OC oneshot. No specific timeline in mind, just season 3 Daryl. I own nothing from The Walking Dead. Thanks for reading! Rated M.


**This is a Daryl/OC oneshot that is the product of my ongoing brain that happened at 2AM this morning. I emailed myself several notes so that I wouldn't lose it. It's taken me nearly all day to get this typed, but I had to push it out before I lost it. I don't have a specific timeline in mind for this, but I picture season 3 Daryl in my head. Thanks for reading and I hope you enjoy it! **

...

It's weird how priorities tend to change when the world goes to shit. Things that used to matter - bills, education, a career - all of those things fail to mean anything anymore. It's strange how those very things that I used to hate I now missed.

It had been days, weeks, months maybe since I had traveled with others. Time ceased to exist, a once important measurement tossed to the wayside along with everything else that used to mean something. There was only today and hopefully tomorrow if you lived long enough. It was almost like a video game except there were no extra lives if you accidentally fell off a cliff or you got eaten. Every day was a gamble...a hope that it wouldn't be the day that life was taken from you.

I had a group once, a ragtag bunch of us thrown together under the false pretense that there would be safety in numbers. What a joke that was. One herd had nearly wiped us completely off the map. We had falsely thought that we were prepared for anything, but we were quickly proved wrong. Those of us who could - ran, and those who fought - lost. I'm only slightly ashamed to admit that I had been one of the runners. I wasn't a fighter and deep down I was terrified that every day would be my last. For some reason, I wanted to keep living in this cold new world.

Everyone seemed to have their own talents, their own methods for killing zombies. My "talent" was running. Before all of this, before the world was flipped upside down, I was nothing more than a realtor - a career that although had served me well at the time, had proved to be utterly useless now. Running had been a past time of mine, a way to curb off the impending feeling of growing old. Granted, thirty was far from old, but for a single woman who dreamed of one day having a family of her own, it was nearly ancient. At least in my eyes. Unfortunately, none of that mattered now.

I wasn't sure how I had managed to escape death for so long now. Maybe it was because I had gotten good at hiding and running. I didn't take unnecessary chances. I got out while I could and to hell with everything else. A few times I had been forced to fight against zombies and I would be lying if I said my heart didn't nearly almost beat out of my chest each time. I wasn't strong, but I was stronger than I used to be. I had no choice.

Crouching low in the bushes, I surveyed the small row of houses. My rations were getting low, my supplies down to a meager four cans of vegetables, none of which were appealing, but all I ate as if they were gourmet. It was amazing what your taste buds could get used to.

It was rare that I attempted to enter too many houses, always fearful of encountering others or a herd that would take me down faster than I could blink. I was getting desperate though and houses seemed to be a far safer bet than attempting a grocery store alone. Besides, those would have been the first to be hit when shit went down. As scared as I was, I wasn't stupid. Quick thinking had gotten me through lots of tough situations.

I watched a couple of loners stumble around on the outskirts of the woods, far enough away that I wouldn't be seen, but still closer than I would have liked. As long as I wasn't spotted, then I was fine. As many times as I had attempted similar situations such as this, you would think that I would had gotten more used to it by now, but I hadn't. Each time was like the first time and I almost had to give myself a pep talk just to get through it. Like I said...I wasn't a superhero and I didn't try to be.

Judging that it was now or never, I stayed crouched, darting through the bushes and running for the front door. I breathed out a sigh of relief only when I reached the porch even though I wasn't out of harm's reach yet. Wiping through a filmy layer of dust on the windows, I peered inside of the house. When I saw nothing moving around, I wrapped my hand around the doorknob and eased the door open, not wanting to alert anything that I was coming.

Heart thumping like crazy, I had a brief thought that I knew what it must feel like to live in a horror movie. That intense feeling of not knowing what's coming, but feeling like it could come at any second gripped me. The hand holding my machete clenched, my fingers gripping the handle so tightly that I knew my knuckles must be white.

The machete, though somewhat awkward seemed to work well for me. I liked the fact that I didn't have to venture as close to the zombies as I would if I carried a knife. The blade was also razor sharp, sharpened religiously by me every night. It was one of those rare finds, discovered in a house much like the one I had just entered. It was perhaps my most prized possession...my comfort.

Quietly I closed the door behind me, slipping through the rooms and checking all of the closets. It would be growing dark fairly soon and I had already decided that if I could clear this house, then I would sleep here for the night, barricaded into one of the rooms.

As luck would have it, the house proved to be completely zombie free which meant one of two things. It was either my lucky day, which was a rare occurrence or this house had been hit already which would be disappointing if true.

Releasing the breath that I had been inadvertently holding, I loosened up a bit and began to explore a little. The house wasn't big at all with two bedrooms, a modestly sized living room, a bathroom, and a large enough kitchen. I liked the smaller houses because there were less places for things to hide. That was one of the down sides of traveling alone...there was no one to watch my back.

I shrugged off my pack and began to rummage through the kitchen. The house did appear to have been searched, but it seemed like it had been a long time ago and whoever had searched it hadn't taken everything. To my delight, I pulled out two cans of fruit, a rare delicacy these days. Reaching around spices and dusty bottle, I discovered a can of stew, two cans of beans, and another lovely can of vegetables. I was really starting to despise those. Three bottles of water and two granola bars later, I had myself a little feast dispersed across the kitchen counter. It was like Christmas and the sight of it all lifted my spirits considerably. It was the little things that mattered.

So it was because of my little celebration that I almost didn't hear the front door opening until it was nearly too late. Panicking, I dropped one of the cans on the counter, cringing at my error as the can connected with the linoleum with a thump. I ducked down and made my way into the laundry room just off of the kitchen, slipping behind the wooden accordion doors, easing them closed in front of me as I peered through the slats.

It was completely silent for so long that I wondered if I had imagined the sound of the door opening. Maybe I was finally starting to lose my mind and I fought to keep my breathing as quiet as possible. The tap on the doors caught me off guard and I froze, bringing my machete up in a defensive manner.

"I know yer in there, can hear ya breathin'," A deep male voice drawled with a Southern twang.

I wracked my brain for a possible solution, a way to get myself out of this seemingly impossible predicament. I didn't trust people easily and with good reason. I had seen my share of bad situations, things I wished I could erase from memory. Without the threat of the law, people had gotten brave and with that bravery had come desperation. I would die before I let a man use my body for his filthy pleasure, of that I was certain.

The door rattled from the force of a kick, "Come on outta there an' no one gets hurt."

Closing my eyes, I swallowed hard and began to ease the door open. I kept the machete close, ready to end my own life if the situation called for it. With the doors opened, I stepped out, swiping at my dull brown locks that kept falling close to my face. There was a man standing there, a heavy contraption in his hands that resembled some sort of bow, the end of that trained on me. I hadn't ever thought of using a weapon like that, but it made sense now that I thought about it. He could kill from long distances and do it silently at that. It was perfect, but it looked heavy and someone like me would never be able to lug something like that around.

He seemed to handle it easily enough I thought as I studied him. Piercing blue eyes studied me as well, most of his face hidden behind the bow, biceps bulging as he kept the contraption aimed at me. I stood as far away from him as possible, my eyes darting quickly to the back door.

"Don't bother," He said suddenly, his eyes following mine. "We're surrounded by a herd tha size o' China out there."

My eyes widened and he gestured with his crossbow to the window next to me. I took my gaze off of him just long enough to peer out and my breath hitched. He was right. The yard was full of zombies. I had no idea where they had come from and how they had seemed to appear so fast. It made sense then. He must have slipped inside of the house to escape the herd.

"Can ya talk or cat gotcha' tongue?" He asked, lowering his crossbow a bit.

I swallowed, "I can talk," I replied, the words feeling foreign on my tongue. It had been too long.

"Look, I ain't here ta hurt ya. Fuckin' herd came outta nowhere an' I had ta slip inside here ta avoid bein' seen. Ain't tryin' ta intrude on yer territory or nothin'."

"Oh, this isn't...I mean...I haven't been here long." My eyes cut over to the food that I had only moments before proudly displayed on top of the counter like a Christmas buffet. So much for that. He would probably take everything and leave me with nothing. It angered me that I wasn't stronger than I was so that I could try and get myself out of situations such as these.

He let the crossbow fall to his side, one strong hand still curled around it. I had no doubts that if I made the wrong move that he wouldn't put an arrow through my head. I was still wary of this man even though his weapon was lowered.

"Ya got a group?" He asked.

I thought about lying, about saying I did, but then I figured it didn't make much difference. If he was going to kill me, he was going to do it regardless of whether or not I had a group.

"No. It's just me. I'm not looking for any trouble," I said with a forlorn glance out of the window. I willed the herd to pass through faster.

"Tell ya what. Gonna put down my weapon. Jus' need somewhere ta wait this herd out an' then I'm gone. Don't be tryin' nothin' stupid," He warned.

I nodded. I was weak, not stupid. "Fine."

He set his crossbow down, walking towards me a bit. I should say that few people in this world shock me anymore. I had seen so much, heard so much that I just sort of rolled with the punches. When this guy stuck out his hand, I almost ran, thinking that he was going to grab me. Instead, he shocked me by wanting to shake my hand. Nervously, I placed my hand in his, our skin almost the same color of bronze from the sun. His hand was strong, his skin slightly rough and when he gripped my hand I could feel his strength seeping through.

"Daryl."

I blinked and then recovered quickly, "Jamie."

He let go of my hand, his warmth slipping away and I absently rubbed my fingers together. He pulled out one of the stools around the kitchen island and took a seat.

"Looks like we're gonna be here a while. Might as well make ourselves comfortable," He declared.

I still wasn't ready to let my guard down around this man, but I perched onto a stool on the opposite side of the counter, staring at him. We were quiet for several minutes in which time I noticed that darkness would soon be approaching us. I wasn't keen on spending the night stuck in this house with a strange man, no matter that he was good looking, which I couldn't help but notice the longer I stared at him.

I cleared my throat, "Do you have a group?"

He studied me almost as if he were trying to decide whether or not to trust me. Finally he nodded, "Yeah. Ya lookin' for a group?"

I shook my head quickly, "No. I travel alone...It's safer."

Daryl scoffed, "Good way ta get yerself killed. How long ya been alone?"

I toyed with one of the straps of my backpack, "Long enough," I replied. Like I said, time ceased to exist these days.

He nodded like he understood, but his eyes continued to study me. I shifted a bit in my seat. I wasn't used to direct attention, especially from a man.

"Mind if I ask how ya managed ta stay alive all this time?"

"Are you calling me a liar?" I asked defensively, my gaze meeting his for the moment.

He raised his brows in surprise and then held up his hands in a gesture of surrender, "Don't put words in my mouth."

I blushed then, feeling chastised for judging him so quickly when I didn't even know him. "I run," I blurted.

He squinted at me, probably trying to decide if I was serious or not, "Ya _run_?"

I nodded, "I used to run...before. Not as a career or anything, but I ran marathons and stuff." It sounded so stupid to say it out loud, but obviously it was working, right? I was still here, still holding my breath that I wouldn't just be another _Game Over_ in the game of life.

"Marathons," He muttered with a soft chuckle. "Go figure."

...

I sat with my back against the wall in the living room, one eye on him as he peeked out of the window. He seemed fidgety and I wondered if he had someone waiting on him, some woman to get back to. I wanted to ask, but it really wasn't any of my business so I kept my mouth shut. The less I knew about this man the better. We would part ways in the morning if the herd was gone and then I would be on my own again the way I liked.

"Don't look like either of us is goin' anywhere tonight so we might as well get comfortable," He said.

"Still crowded?" I asked.

He nodded and I sighed heavily. How was I supposed to get any sleep with him around? He seemed okay so far, but how did I know this wasn't all an act...all some sort of grand scheme to get me to let my guard down? Yeah, I was slightly paranoid too.

The can of fruit I had devoured earlier hadn't been near enough to dampen my hunger, but I forced my mind from it. I tried hard to ration out my food to make it last. After a while, it just became second nature to ignore the gnawing pangs of hunger. Daryl glanced at me.

"You should eat somethin' else," He suggested.

Strangely enough, he hadn't eaten anything from my haul that I had spread out in the kitchen. I watched him eat a can of something from his own bag, neither of us speaking more than we really had to. It was odd to say the least. I guess I expected him to take my food as his own considering there wouldn't be much I could do about it.

He dug around in his bag and pulled out a blue bandanna, unraveling the material in his hands. Walking over to me, I took notice of how he made no noise at all when he moved which explained why I hadn't heard him sneak up on me earlier. He held something out to me.

"Here."

I hesitated, "What is it?"

He sighed, sounding slightly annoyed, "It's protein. Dried squirrel jerky. It'll fill ya up."

I accepted the offering, sniffing the piece of dried meat curiously. It didn't smell bad, but I hadn't ever thought of eating squirrel before. Squirrel were fast little creatures, making me wonder just how good he really was with that crossbow. I took a bite though, my stomach eagerly accepting the offering and before I really realized it, I had devoured the whole damn thing, even licking my fingers afterward. It was only when I felt his heated gaze on me that I stopped, realizing how it looked.

"Thanks," I said softly.

He nodded in response, turning back to the window to peer out again. I didn't know why though. It was dark now and he surely wouldn't be able to see much outside of that window. It was hard to see anything inside of here. I had lit a small candle from my bag, but the flame didn't produce hardly any light at all.

He moved away from the window and I heard him settle against the opposite wall. I wondered if I fell asleep would he try to attack me, though intuition told me he wouldn't. We had been together for hours now and though I still didn't know much about this man, he didn't seem the type to attack unprovoked. It still bugged me to the point that I had to bring it up though.

"Why..." I struggled for the words, "You're a man and-" I stopped, feeling like an idiot and I growled at myself in frustration.

"An' yer a woman," He said, "Feels good ta get that cleared out tha way."

I blinked, staring in his direction and then I saw the tiniest of smiles lurking around his lips. It was then that I figured out that he was teasing me. I blushed, not knowing how to react to that. It made me feel warm inside...a way I hadn't felt in so long. I began to wonder if he did try to touch me if I might even enjoy it. I felt bad for thinking it, but it had been a long time since I had been with anyone in a sexual nature. I hadn't even felt comfortable enough to get myself off, too worried about everything else to bother with it. It was only now that I was painfully aware of just how long it had been as my inside began to take notice of him.

"You haven't killed me," I observed. He was quiet, clearly waiting on me to continue so I did. "I just...I mean, it's been my experience so far that if a man keeps a woman around then he has plans to use her...for his pleasure." I waited, picking at my jeans nervously.

It was several long minutes before he responded and when he did his voice was gruff and low. "That tha kind o' man ya think I am? Ta keep ya alive jus' ta use ya?" He softened his voice a little, "I ain't that kinda man. Kinda prefer my women ta be willin'."

I swallowed, "I didn't mean to offend you. I jus-"

"I get it," He interrupted. "I've seen enough shit ta get it, but that ain't me."

I exhaled, letting out a breath that I hadn't even realized I had been holding until then. The fact that I had seemingly stumbled upon a good guy gave me a small glimmer of hope that all was not lost in the world. My heart was beating three times its normal speed as I shifted to my knees, crawling over to where he sat, his long legs stretched out in front of him. His eyes appeared closed at first glance, but upon closer inspection I discovered that they were open just enough that he was watching my every movement. I felt a shiver race through me.

I placed a hesitant hand upon his thigh, felt his skin twitch just beneath my touch. I didn't know what the hell I was doing, trying to proposition some random stranger. It had been so long since I had touched anyone, much less intimately and to say I was nervous would be putting it mildly.

"What are ya doin'?" Daryl's voice sounded deeper this time, but still quiet...mindful of the zombies that lurked outside.

"I'm not sure," My heart fluttered, my hand freezing in place. "I just thought...It's been so long since..." I stopped again. "I bet you have someone waiting for you back at your group. I'm so stupid," I began to back away, but his fingers curled around my wrist like a vice, making me inhale sharply.

He loosened his grip immediately, but didn't pull away, eyes boring into me. "Why?"

That one word hung in the air and I was forced into pondering the answer to that question when I wasn't even sure of it myself. It wasn't like I had planned this or had even thought about it until now.

"I'm not sure really," I began. "I...I guess I just don't want to wake up tomorrow and have it be game over without getting to touch someone just one more time. This is it...this is all that's out there," I whispered.

I stared down at my lap, too afraid to look at him anymore. I had just admitted more to him in the past two minutes than I had admitted to anyone in a very long time. I hadn't even realized I had felt that way until I had started speaking. It was a stark reality to come to the realization that you could spend the rest of your days alone.

Slowly, I felt his thumb trace across the pulse that pounded in my wrist, pressing down lightly before stroking across it. If he was trying to soothe me, it was having the opposite effect. I was becoming a tangled mess of nerves. Without warning, he tugged on my wrist and I went sprawling forward, my chest colliding with his, lying halfway across his body.

If I wasn't aware of it before, I was definitely aware of it now. Every nerve in my body tingled as I came into close contact with him. I was pretty sure I was trembling as he raised my chin with one finger. I finally locked gazes with him, my arm shaking as I tried to support my body. He gripped my hips with both hands and lifted, sliding me upright onto his lap. I could feel the hardness from his erection through our clothing and it sparked a fire down below.

Without a word, he unbuttoned my jeans, sliding the zipper down before I could so much as blink. When his fingers brushed my bare skin I wanted to cry out, the sensation of being touched overwhelming after so long. I braced one hand on his chest, my fingers surreptitiously stroking the muscles underneath his sleeveless shirt. His hand slipped beneath the cotton of my panties, one finger brushing against my slit. I jerked, fingers curling into his shirt reflexively and he pulled back just a notch. Forcing my body to calm down, I nodded and he ventured forward again, stroking just against my skin. I could feel the heat of him surrounding me and it was making me feel drunk with arousal.

His fingers danced along the hair there before slipping inside and I rocked my body forward, a low moan flowing out of me. Leaning forward, he placed the fingers of his other hand against my lips, shushing me. I pressed my lips shut, embarrassed at how quickly my body had reacted. He stroked in and out of me, fingers curling into me at an angle that had me wanting to moan again. I wanted to kiss him and I stared at his lips, wondering how he would react if I did.

He slipped his finger free from me and I blinked as he rolled me to the floor, his body hovering over me, tugging my jeans down my hips. He placed one palm flat on the floor by my head, one knee between my legs. He slipped his finger back inside of me, teasing me with his touch again. I lifted my hips up into his palm seeking more and I felt him slide another finger inside, the thickness filling me.

Beside me, his arm flexed with his slow pace, the muscles brushing against me a blatant reminder of how powerful he was. Dipping his head, he nudged my shirt and I lifted it up for him, his mouth closing over my hip. I whimpered, biting desperately at my lip in an effort to remain quiet. He pushed my shirt up further with the tip of his nose, his tongue sliding trails of heat up my body. When he reached my bra, he shifted and lifted his hand to push the cups up out of the way.

The first touch of tongue to nipple was like striking a match to oil. Rivulets of heat burned through me, my breath coming out faster as I felt my orgasm drawing near. It had been so long that I even the slightest stimulation was sensory overload and I was amazed my body had held out this long. He swirled the pad of his tongue across my nipple and the friction nearly sent me tumbling over the edge.

"Soaked," He murmured as he latched on, lips closing over the pert tip.

He suckled, alternating between hard and soft sucks. He knocked my thighs further apart with his legs, his fingers increasing their pace, stroking over my swollen clit time and again. I could barely stand it and I closed my eyes, thrashing my head back and forth. That old familiar heat swept through me and then I was pulsing around his fingers, lost in a tidal wave of pleasure. He continued to stroke me until I inched away from his hand, the area becoming too sensitive to touch. He removed his fingers from me, backing away into the shadows.

I fixed my clothing, covering myself once more as I struggled to regain my composure. My brain was a spinning vortex of activity. Now that the moment was over, I was starting to question whether or not I had done the right thing. He hadn't asked for anything in return, hadn't tried to go any further than just getting me off and that's it. I didn't understand it. This man was a mystery to me. I struggled to keep my eyes open, but my body was more relaxed than it had been in a long time and I could feel myself slipping into sleep. I briefly felt the soft touch of a blanket being thrown over me right before I drifted off.

...

The faint light of dawn was just streaming through the windows when I awakened to an empty room. My first thought was that Daryl had left me there, slipped out before I awoke, but then he walked into the room as silent as ever. He seemed surprised to see me awake, but then again my body was accustomed to it now. No matter where I was, I didn't sleep very long.

"Herd's gone," He commented.

It was then that I noticed that he had all of his things in hand as if he was ready to walk out at any moment. I was surprised at how disappointed I was by that thought.

He shifted, bringing his hand to his mouth to chew on one of his fingers, "I left all tha food."

I climbed to my feet, running several fingers through my hair, "You didn't have to do that. There's enough to share. Take some back to your people."

I couldn't believe I was offering. One night with this man and I was coming apart at the seams. He hadn't even done anything more than assist me in getting off for crying out loud!

He started to say something, but then he stopped, his body shifting towards the door. "We got enough for now. 'Sides ya might need it. No one ta look after ya an' all."

He reached for the door, flashing me a small smile as he prepared to walk out. I sprinted across the room and grabbed at his arm. He flinched and pulled away from my grasp, but his expression wasn't threatening. I didn't have time to ponder on it though.

"I just wanted to say thanks...for- for everything," I said at last.

He shrugged like it wasn't a big deal, "Take care o' yerself girl."

And just like that he was gone. I watched him for a moment as he walked down the sidewalk. He stopped at a motorcycle and straddled it, looking around before firing it up. It surprised me that he had traveled by bike, but it didn't matter anymore. None of it mattered because I was left exactly how I said I wanted right?

Alone.

Except I wasn't sure if it was what I wanted anymore. I wasn't sure of anything except strong men that carried crossbows, leaving my life as silently as they had entered.


End file.
